Even Superheroes Bleed Sometimes
by MTGirlForever
Summary: One of the Avengers is left badly injured after the battle for NY. Not only is he physically injured, but there is a lot of unsolved mental pain as well. Can two of the Avengers help put each other back together or will they remain broken? NOT slash, just close friendship.
1. Bloodstains and a Glimpse of Heartache

Loki opened his eyes to perhaps the most terrifying sight he had ever seen. His brother and all the rest of the Avengers loomed over him, one pointing an arrow less than six inches from his nose, and all with the darkest looks of utmost contempt he had ever seen. He put up no resistance as he was bound tightly and tossed unceremoniously on the nearest couch - he'd seen what this team could do and he no longer wanted any part of it at all. In fact, he was completely willing to lie complacently while his captors began to celebrate raucously with Tony's proficient supply of food and beverages which had miraculously survived the battle essentially unscathed. All but one, that is, a fact which Loki saw no reason to share.

Hawkeye, otherwise known as Clint Barton, was enjoying the festivities until he realized someone was missing. His visual senses heightened far beyond normal as he'd learned to compensate for his poor hearing, he noticed out of the corner of his eye Captain America staring out the window at his beloved city.

Slipping away unnoticed, Clint moved up beside Steve, mildly surprised the other man didn't notice given how alert he'd been during the battle. Then it clicked. "She'll be okay, Steve - she's tough," he murmured gently.

Steve, snapped around, startled, but relaxed to see his good friend's hands spread in a gesture of peace. He sighed softly. "I know, Clint, but she's my city! I know this was to defend her and the rest of the world, but it breaks my heart that I had to hurt her to do it."

Clint hesitated for an instant before resting a hand lightly on the other's shoulder. "You did what you had to do, Steve, and we both know there was no other choice."

"Yeah," Steve conceded after a long moment's pause. "But you better believe I'll be right here to help her heal."

Clint chuckled softly. "I'd be disappointed and shocked if you did any less. But you'd better believe I'll be right there alongside you, friend, `cause superhero or not, even you can't put the whole city back together by yourself!" Clint suddenly wondered if he'd pushed too far - the Captain was a very private man and might not like the insinuation that he couldn't handle it on his own, not to mention that this was coming from a man he'd known less than a day.

To his great relief, however, the Captain's lips parted in that warm, genuine smile of his. Something about the quiet man beside him reminded him of his best friend Bucky, who had died saving Steve's life in the war. In this strange and lonely new world he'd found himself thrust into, Steve realized just how much he'd come to rely on Clint in just a few hours, trusting him to watch his back and relying on him to help with tactical decisions. Never one to make friendships quickly, he'd silently asked Natasha only a few hours before if Hawkeye was trustworthy again, but he hadn't needed to. The instant their eyes had met he'd known full well he could put his life in this man's hands today or any other day. They'd shared a tiny quirk of a smile in greeting and he'd finally felt the old, aching wound beginning to heal slightly, and now the man's gentle words of encouragement and friendship built a trust in his heart that he had not felt in far too long. "Thanks, friend," he murmured softly, the words catching on an odd lump in his throat that he refused to admit was emotion.

Then, to his utter amazement, the world began to spin dizzily while the sirens below and laughter behind blurred into a buzzing. He hadn't felt this way since his transformation, and he was barely even aware of the fact that Clint's hand had gone from lightly resting on his shoulder to gripping it hard.

"Steve?" Clint called anxiously. In the space of about thirty seconds, Steve's face had gone from a ruddy, healthy tan to a sickly white. Steve shook his head to try to clear it but that only made his knees buckle and he would have gone down had it not been for Clint's hands going around his waist. "Steve? Cap, what's wrong?" Clint demanded, his voice taut with anxiety.

Feeling himself sagging more and more into Clint, Steve panted heavily, "Dunno...can't...can't breathe...Clint!"

Then the Captain collapsed completely while coughing tightly, falling heavily into the archer, head coming to rest on Clint's chest, and felt himself lowered carefully to the ground. "Easy, take it easy, Cap," Clint soothed, heart pounding with worry. Usually completely aloof with any aside from Natasha and Phil, who had died so violently earlier in the day, he found strength in the Captain just as the Captain found it in him. He'd needed a best friend his entire life and he'd known the minute the Captain had told him to suit up that he'd found one, only to see that same friend literally fade before his eyes. Glancing up for half a second, he yelled, "Stark! Somethin's wrong with Cap! Get the med kit!"

In an instant, the rest of the Avengers were hovering over them, Tony with the med kit in hand. Steve was clinging to consciousness by a thread, and if he was aware of the others he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he shocked himself by grabbing for Clint's hand. Instantly, the archer gripped it, just as Bucky had when Steve was a terrified little boy that Bucky had found wandering the streets alone and taken him under his wing. "Clint...stay?" he pleaded brokenly, caught somewhere between the present and the past, images of Bucky and him over the years slamming together and making his head swim dizzily.

"`course I'll stay, Cap. `sides, we gotta put New York back together, `member?" he teased softly.

The only response he received was a faint pressure on his hand and the tiniest of smiles, and then Steve's eyes rolled back in his head and he blacked out. Tony instantly demanded, "What happened? What's wrong with him?"

Clint shook his head shortly before gently extricating his hand from the Captain's grip and beginning to carefully examine him. To his horror, he discovered a deep cut in Steve's right bicep that still trickled blood. Far worse, however, and partially hidden by the color of his uniform, was a horrific burn and deep, bloody gash across the soldier's lower left side and abdomen. "What in the world?" Clint demanded, horrified. He heard gasps from everyone else as well. Sure, they'd all come out of the battle with cuts and bruises, particularly Tony, who'd taken a mighty plunge and even stopped breathing for a few seconds, but somehow they all believed that the super-soldier was immune to such injury. Maybe it was the fact that instead of carrying a weapon like the rest, he carried a shield, and his preferred message was peace, despite the fact that he'd fight to the death for something he believed in.

Thor spoke up suddenly. "The soldier was struck by one of those blue guns when he was fighting three others. He doubled over and collapsed as soon as it struck. He needed help getting up, but I just believed he was tired."

"What!" Clint was absolutely horrified. "One of those blue lasers? We saw what those things did to anybody else - a direct hit killed anybody in its path and blew up everything else! I'm willing to bet the only reason he's still alive is that serum stuff he was injected with. Stark, Tasha! Help me get this shirt off of him so I can get a better look at him. I've had some medic's training, which'll do for now, but he needs to be seen by a doctor ASAP." He froze suddenly, remembering something he'd seen from a rooftop, as gentle hands began to remove the bloody shirt. "Not only that, but he took a full-on hit from a bomb on his shield that blew him out a third story window onto a car. If he doesn't have broken ribs, it's a miracle."

"Did he say anything to you before he collapsed?" Natasha demanded.

"Said he couldn't breathe right before he fell." Clint grimaced and beside him he heard Tony's sharp intake of breath as they realized just how bad the injury to Steve's stomach was. The flesh around the wound was seared and blood flowed freely from it, helped by the removing of his shirt. Not only that, but his entire right side was nearly black with bruising, confirming Clint's fear of broken ribs.

Clint shuddered, remembering seeing the horrific wound in Phil's body less than twenty four hours before. Tony's voice broke through his thoughts suddenly, saying, "Come'n, we should get him lying flat. We can lay him on the bar for now - it's not the best, but the table's smashed."

"Right - help me lift him, but be careful. It's possible he has other injuries and we don't want to aggravate the rib injuries." Without another word, Thor, Tony and Clint lifted the injured man tenderly and carefully carried him across the room to lay him on the bar. The Hulk and Natasha hovered nearby, Natasha and Clint both silently praying the Hulk would be transformed back into the doctor and help Clint. Unfortunately, the giant was so angry at the damage that had been done to his beloved Captain that he could not calm down enough to once again become the doctor, so he watched helplessly instead.

Clint, examining the wound more closely, demanded of Thor, "How's his breathing?"

"Shallow," Thor replied instantly.

"Not surprising. He's lost a ton of blood - the average person would probably be in a coma or worse by now. I need to establish an IV line." Clint spun to dig through the med kit in search of an IV, only to find Natasha passing it to him. He gave her a faint smile which she tremblingly returned before he began probing for a vein large enough to support the IV needle. The Captain was so dehydrated from loss of blood that this took far longer than he would have liked but he found one at last. Clint handed the IV bag to the Hulk, partially because his height made it simple for him to keep the IV line at the right angle, but also because he knew that at heart the Hulk was actually a gentle man and would be thrilled to be useful.

Finally, he was able to turn his attention fully to the ugly wound. After carefully purging it with disinfectant, he began to stitch it. As he was doing so, however, the Captain began to thrash, the pain from having his burned flesh stitched reaching him even in his unconscious state. Without having to be told, Thor and Tony immediately grabbed onto him, one at his head and one at his feet, while Natasha continued to pass Clint the necessary items. At last, the wound was stitched shut and Clint wiped a sheen of perspiration from his face before tightly wrapping Steve's broken ribs. With a sigh of relief, he finally sagged against the bar. "Clint? Will he make it?" Tony asked softly.

Clint nodded. "With time and lots of rest, I think so. The normal person probably wouldn't, but the fact that he's quite literally a super-soldier is in his favor. I doubt he was even aware of these injuries, really, until he collapsed. Between the adrenaline and worrying about everybody else, I highly doubt he took the time to notice how badly he was hurt. So we'll have to keep a close eye on him to make sure that doesn't happen in the recovery process. In the meantime, I'd like to get him to the hospital - this was pretty much just a patch job - I'd like to have a doctor look him over, do some x-rays."

"Right!" Tony replied. "However, I'm not sure any ambulances would be able to get here right now, considering we're sittin' right in the heart of the destruction."

Clint frowned deeply in frustration. "Then we'll make a stretcher and carry him there ourselves!"

Without another word needing to be spoken, the rest of the team, minus the Hulk, who continued to hold the IV bag, whirled away to put together a stretcher. Suddenly, Thor called over his shoulder, "What about Loki?"

The others hesitated; they all wanted to go to the hospital with the Captain, but Loki certainly couldn't be left alone nor could he be brought along to the hospital. Then the Hulk grunted and pointed to himself, making Loki cringe. The last person he wanted to be stuck alone with was the giant of a man who had quite literally picked him up and smashed the floor with him. Clint smiled up at the giant. "Okay, thanks, big guy." It would have been supremely difficult to bring the Hulk into the hospital anyway, but he'd solved that problem himself by volunteering to stay with Loki.

As the others worked quickly to put together a stretcher, Clint bent over Steve. "Come'n, pal, fight it," he whispered into the other's ear. For, despite his assurance with the others, he knew that Steve was in serious condition and despite his top-notch health, could still die. "We gotta put New York back on her feet, an' I'm not about to do all the work," he added jokingly, angrily blinking back a tear as memories of his friend Phil slammed into him even as he bent over Steve. Beside him, he heard the Hulk grunt softly and knew in that moment he understood. Not feeling quite as alone, the archer let himself relax slightly. Even as he did, he felt the faintest press of his hand and realized that unconscious or not, Steve had heard him somehow and was promising the only way he could to fight.

Within two minutes the rest of the Avengers had put together a rough stretcher. It certainly wasn't top of the line, but it would do for what they needed. Tony had stripped off his ruined suit and was pressing the communication device in his ear to speak to Director Fury. "Fury here," the director responded instantly. "Good work out there, men - and Agent Romanoff - particularly you, Stark."

"Yeah, well, it's over. Captain America's down an' hurt bad - we're on the way to the hospital right now. After that, we're all declaring a leave of absence until further notice - any attempts to find us will be futile."

"You can bring the Captain to the ship - we have top of the line medical facilities here."

Hawkeye cringed at that statement, remembering how he was strapped down to a metal bed in a recovery room just hours before. Speaking for all of them, he drew his eyebrows together and shook his head.

"Don't think so, Director. We know you're a good man at heart - you warned us about the bomb and saved the city in the process, but we've all had it with that so-called committee and anything that has to do with it."

"I understand. Off the record, I couldn't agree more," Fury responded quietly.

Clint pressed the device in his own ear after a second's hesitation. "Off the record, we're taking him to Beth Israel Medical Center in Brooklyn if you and Agent Hill were to stop by."

"Noted. Thank you, Agent Barton."

Thor, not interested in communicating with any director, had been quietly watching Steve. Suddenly he grabbed Clint's arm. "His breathing is worsening."

Clint whirled around and grabbed Steve's wrist to check his pulse. "Pulse is thready too. Let's get him outa here, now!" Instantly Thor and Tony began to lift him onto the stretcher held by Clint and Natasha. "Careful - he may have back injuries as well," Clint warned as they lowered him onto the stretcher. Clint felt a twinge of pain shoot through his leg that had crumpled under him during his mad swing into the building, but he ignored it. Steve groaned softly but had no other reaction, even when they tied his wrists to the edges of the stretcher and a rope across his upper chest to keep him from sliding around. Without a backward glance, they left Tony's demolished building behind, leaving a still-enraged Hulk to guard the now terrified Loki.

Not more than twenty minutes later, the team carried their precious burden into, unknowingly, the same hospital in which Steve was born and summarily abandoned. A harried nurse glanced up - the hospitals had all seen a tremendous influx of patients the likes of which they hadn't seen since September 11 and she was expecting to see more worried family members whose questions she almost certainly wouldn't be able to answer. What she saw instead were four very intense stares from three men and a women whom she clearly recognized as having taken on and defeated Loki's army single-handedly. Between them on an improvised stretcher lay a very still Captain America, whom she'd heard from multiple people had saved their lives. And then she realized the man dressed all in black was the one who'd pulled her safely from the burning bus before she ran the few blocks to the hospital to assist. It was him she addressed. "What happened to him?" she demanded.

"Gut shot by one of the lasers, blasted out of a third story window that left broken ribs and probable concussion, and a bad gash on the upper arm. Breathing and pulse slow, appears to be in shock," Hawkeye reported tersely.

"Right!" Spinning away, she announced over the intercom, "Level one trauma case, room seven, immediate emergency!" Turning back to the waiting team, she added, "Take him to room seven - the doctors will be there within two minutes." As they began to pass her, she murmured, "And thank you."

But the Avengers never heard as they bore their now-beloved Captain into the room. True to her word, a team of two doctors and a nurse arrived only a few seconds later, with only a quick, startled glance at what was clearly the team of superheros. One gave Steve a quick examination and nodded. "Who did the sutures?"

Clint stepped forward slightly. "I did, sir. I was a medic previously. I also administered an IV of saline - that was all we had on hand."

"Very good - you've probably saved his life. But he does need blood and I'd hate to take some from our supply since it's very limited currently - are any of you willing to donate?"

In response, four arms instantly appeared in front of him. In spite of the gravity of the situation he couldn't help but chuckle. "He won't need more than two pints. Do any of you have type O blood? We don't have time to determine his blood type." Natasha and Tony nodded. "Okay, good. The nurse here will take your blood and then I'm gonna have to ask everyone to leave. Courtney, get the equipment."

Everyone in the room felt Hawkeye tense and his fist began to clench. The doctor noticed and smiled slightly. "I was going to add that I need your assistance if you're willing - that way we can free up another doctor and possibly the nurse to help others."

Clint sighed softly and the tension eased a little from his shoulders. "Of course."

"Good! Hawkeye, right?" the doctor asked.

He snorted softly. "Or Clint."

"All right, Clint, I'm Dr. Martin. As soon as we get your friend's condition stabilized here, we'll have to do something about those burns." As they had been speaking, the other doctor had established an IV line with saline as well as placed an oxygen mask. Everyone was relieved to see that the Captain's color was slightly improved but his breathing still seemed harsh.

The nurse had left the room but returned suddenly carrying an odd contraption. Tony gave her a puzzled look as she come up to him and Dr. Martin grinned faintly. "It's an old Russian device from World War II that allows for a direct transfusion from one person to another. It's a relic and technically we're not supposed to use them anymore, but I've found it comes in handy on occasions of emergency in which the blood type can be confirmed and no blood is on hand. You willing to give it a shot?"

Tony laughed outright. "Doc, I just flew a nuclear bomb up into a portal into another world. I'm not the least bit concerned about a needle!"

The others chuckled as well, all except Clint. The rest could tell he was growing impatient and Tony and Natasha quickly donated their blood to Steve before leaving the room along with Thor and the other doctor and Courtney.

"Okay, Clint, I'll be honest - despite my levity with your friends, the Captain here is truly in bad shape."

"I know," Clint shot back impatiently.

"I figured. Did you see any evidence of internal injuries when you were stitching him up?"

"No, but he also got blown out of a building. There could be internal trauma, particularly to his back, and I know he has at least one broken rib on the right side. I'm guessing he also has a concussion."

Dr. Martin's eyebrows raised. "I'd rather know all of it upfront. Thanks. I thought that serum he was injected with was supposed to make him heal miraculously fast, though?"

Clint's eyes darkened and flashed dangerously, making him look far more like the deadly archer than the concerned friend. "Look, Doc, a direct hit like he took would have blown any normal man in two, not to mention that he ought to be in a coma just from getting blasted out of a building. Now, are you gonna take care of him or stand here an' talk? `cause if you are, then give me the tools an' I'll take care of my friend!"

"Easy," the doctor murmured, hands palm-up toward the enraged man. "Let's get to work."

An hour and a half later, the surgery was done and the Captain was in a recovery room, at last in stable condition. Hawkeye, who refused to leave Steve's side, was perched in a chair beside his bed, having tightly wrapped his knee with bandages he'd appropriated from the ER, the chair positioned so that he could observe all movement in the room, including the window. Dr. Martin, meanwhile, emerged into the waiting room with an exhausted but pleased smile on his face. Tony and Natasha leaped instantly to their feet, followed a few seconds later by Thor. "Well?" Natasha demanded sharply.

"He'll be fine with time, although we almost lost him once. He's in a recovery room right now - Clint's with him. After he's moved into a regular room, you can all visit him. What happened to Thor? He's looking pale."

Tony glanced at the massive man beside him, who frowned deeply at the notion of any indication of weakness on his part. "He insisted on giving three pints of blood," he explained with a grin as he watched the doctor's mouth fall open.

"Three pints? Why, he should be passed out on the floor right now!"

"He's a demi-god - three pints of blood is nothin' - he wouldn'ta had the least bit of trouble if he hadn't been stabbed earlier, plus he hasn't had his lunch yet!"

Dr. Martin rolled his eyes, unable to do anything else. "You guys are nuts," he muttered with a tired grin. "Now, Captain America will be in recovery for a few hours an' there's not much more you can do here for the time being, so why don't you get the human blood-bank some food. If you give me a number, I'll call you as soon as he's transferred to a room."

Relaxed and smiling now that they knew the Captain would be all right, the remaining Avengers nodded and Tony gave the doctor his number. As they headed out the door, however, the doctor called after Thor, "Better get that wound checked out!"

Thor glanced over his shoulder. "It is nothing - already there is no pain. A day's rest and all will be well. Now we must tell Dr. Banner the good news regarding the Captain so that he might return to normal."

Leaving the doctor still too astonished to say anything, the three continued their march out the door to return to Stark's building.


	2. The Vigilant Hawk

Almost twenty four hours later, the entire team was crowded into Captain America's tiny hospital room, along with Director Fury and Agent Hill. Most were dozing in uncomfortable chairs, although Thor had finally stretched out on the floor underneath the window. Hawkeye had yet to budge from his position in the chair beside Steve's bed, despite the fact that the Captain hadn't so much as twitched in the past day. He'd made a promise to the Captain and he wasn't about to break it. Even so, even he could only handle so much and all of the stress and adrenaline of the past few days had finally caught up to him. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead on the edge of the bed and dozed off. He startled awake just a few minutes later, however, when he sensed eyes on him. His head jerked up, only to find Steve staring at him. "Hospital beds haven't improved much since World War II - we oughta get Stark to do somethin' about that," Steve rasped, his voice rough from the oxygen.

Clint broke into a wide, rare grin. "Hey, you're back among the living! Had us all worried there for a while!"

Realizing that the others were beginning to stir, Steve grabbed onto the archer's hand. To his surprise, the other man made no move to pull it away. "Wanted to say thank you - you saved my life - without you I'd be dead. An' thanks for keepin' your promise - not too many people have done that in my life," Steve whispered sadly.

Clint blinked back moisture in his eyes that had surely appeared from exhaustion as he managed to squeeze the Captain's hand just before he pulled it away. "Couldn't afford to lose the only Captain we have! An' we'll talk more later," he added softly so that the others couldn't hear. He knew in that moment that their friendship was cemented. They both had pain in their lives that no one else in the team could relate to, and he knew that relating these experiences to each other would help them heal like nothing else could.

Then the Captain disappeared underneath a swarm of well-wishers. Phrases of, "Hey Cap!" "Glad to see you awake at last!" "Nice nap, Cap?" "Had us worried!" echoed around the room. but while Steve appreciated the sentiments, he only had one thing on his mind. "Thanks guys! When do I get outta here?"

Almost everyone broke into a laugh at that, their emotions shattered after all the events of the past three days. Even Steve, Clint, and the usually somber Dr. Banner grinned. Dr Martin, having heard the commotion from outside, finally wormed his way through to the Captain's beside. "Well, son, in answer to your question, I would normally suggest that anyone who came as near to dying as you did ought to spend at least a week in the hospital. Considering your remarkable tenacity, however, I will probably release you this afternoon to a week of bedrest at your own place IF I'm satisfied with how you're doing after a complete examination. Which means," he stared pointedly at the rest of the people in the room, "that you will all have to leave."

Hawkeye's brow furrowed deeply and he fixed the doctor with a dark glare. "Sorry, Doc, I'm not leaving. I made a promise an' I intend to keep it."

Glancing at Steve for approval, Dr. Martin shrugged. "All right, you can help me. But everybody else needs to leave so I can have some room to work. You can come back as soon as I'm done."

He waited until the rest of the team had shuffled reluctantly out the door before turning back to Steve. "I'm Dr. Martin an' I've been taking care of you for the past twenty four hours or so." He paused awkwardly for a moment. "Umm...what should I call you? Captain America?"

Steve chuckled, then flinched as he felt a deep pain that radiated from his stomach up through his chest. "Cap or Steve'll do jus' fine, Doc," he replied. "Thanks for takin' care of me."

"Certainly, but honestly, it's your friends that you owe your life too, particularly that one," he replied, nodding at Clint. "He patched you up enough to get you here alive an' then helped me out with the surgery I had to do. Mr. Stark and Agent Romanov both gave you a direct blood transfusion, which hasn't been an accepted medical practice since World War II. However, you broke a rib far too close to your lung, and had some internal bleeding. Besides that, that zap that you took from the laser gun or whatever it was left you with severe second degree burns and a horrific gash that took over a hundred sutures to close up. Fortunately technology has improved enough since the `40's that these ones will dissolve on their own and you don't have to have them removed. You also have a severe back sprain, a bad gash on your arm that also required a fair amount of stitches, and a mild concussion. If you were a normal man, you'd be dead, no matter talented your surgeon."

"Huh!" Steve grunted, unsure of what to say for once. "Got any idea how long it'll take to heal?"

"I was hoping you could answer that. For the normal person, it would take months, but you're certainly not normal. Have you never had serious injuries before?"

"No, not really. Worst things I've had have been some badly bruised lungs and a bullet burn. They healed up pretty fast, but I've never been hurt like this before."

Clint chuckled softly. "Getting blasted out of a building'll do that to ya. May I suggest a softer landing spot next time?"

Steve rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. "Ahh, duly noted, Soldier. Next time, I shall request the bad guy to wait to throw the bomb until I have contacted the fire department and know they are standing by with a net!'

His friend grinned down at him. "Good plan. Now, Doc, ya told him what's wrong with him - how soon can he get out?"

"Well, I can't say I've ever had a patient like this before, but provided that he stays on bed rest - by which I mean actually lying in bed, not running around takin' on an entire army or the like - for at the bare minimum of three days, I will release him now."

"You got it, Doc. I'll be sure he follows orders. Come'n, Cap, let's getcha outa here."

Steve, more than ready to get out of the hospital, sat up and started to get out of bed, but the doctor held up a hand. "Not so fast! You gotta be in a wheelchair to the front door - hospital rules, and unfortunately, they even apply to superheroes."

Steve sighed but decided not to fight it. When the doctor had produced a chair from the closet, he slid into it and allowed the archer to push him out. A rousing cheer greeted him from the remaining Avengers, as Director Fury and Agent Hill had slipped away after ensuring that he would be all right. "Discharged with three days bed rest," Steve informed them, grinning.

"Great! You can stay at my place since it might be kinda tough to get to yours. The streets are still pretty messed up. It's a little messy but there's several bedrooms that survived intact. You all can stay, an' we can..." Stark rattled off.

"Sorry, Stark, but Cap's comin' to my place till he recovers," Clint interjected suddenly.

At the puzzled looks of the rest of the team, Steve added, "We have some things we need to talk out, alone. Sorry, guys."

Natasha cocked an eyebrow at her good friend Clint. "Everything okay?"

He smiled gently at her. "Everything's fine, `tash. We just want to talk."

Suddenly Natasha, Tony, and Dr. Banner understood. They had read both men's files and finally realized how similar their backgrounds were, realizing that their friendship would help both men to finally begin to heal from their painful pasts. Tony nodded suddenly. "Right, well, come over to the Tower whenever you're feelin' better, Cap. We'll be there an' we can celebrate - maybe I'll even send out for swharma!"

Dr. Banner, Steve, and Thor broke into laughter at that statement, fueled by the looks of complete puzzlement on the other's faces. "You do that, Stark!" Steve choked out, still laughing, before pointing down the hall in a command for Clint to charge. With a shrug and a grin, Clint complied, waving to the others as he pushed the Captain into an elevator.


	3. Love All, Trust a Few

The two sat in comfortable silence on the way to Clint's apartment in Tony's spare Hummer. When they arrived, they made it about three-fourths of the way up the flight of stairs before Steve stumbled as the world began to spin. In an instant, the archer's hands were around his waist. "Whoa, easy, Cap, I gotcha," the other man murmured.

"Sorry. Got real dizzy," Steve mumbled, surprised that there was a slight slur to his words.

"You're fine. Hang in there - few more steps an' then you can lie down."

Leaning heavily on Clint, Steve managed to make it into Clint's studio apartment and onto his bed. "Sorry. Dunno what happened," he apologized weakly.

"Let's see here, Cap. You got blasted out a window by a bomb, shot in the stomach by a laser gun that ought to have killed you, had emergency surgery, and have a concussion. I think you're allowed to be dizzy."

"Okay, okay, you put it that way," Steve grumbled good-naturedly.

"I do put it that way," Clint shot back with a slight grin. "How you feel otherwise?"

"Sore - big surprise, I know," he added before Clint could say anything.

"You take it easy - I'll get some painkillers for you - not sure how well they'll work in your system though. After that, maybe you can eat something an' then you need some more sleep. We can talk later."

"What about you? You look awful - you don't look like you've slept in a week," Steve demanded after he'd downed the painkillers and eaten about four bowls of soup.

"Probably haven't," Clint acknowledged. "I'll sleep on the couch. Holler if ya need somethin'."

"You sure? I can sleep on the couch!" Steve protested.

"You stay! I've slept in a thousand worse places. Now sleep, so I can get some rest, all right?"

That won the stubborn Captain over when nothing else would have. "Okay," he conceded. "Clint? Thanks again, for everything."

The archer smiled down at him. "Anytime. Holler if you need somethin'." As he spoke, he stretched out on the couch, which was angled to command a view of both the window and the door. Within seconds, Captain America heard deep, heavy breathing that indicated Clint was already asleep. With a pray of thanksgiving on his lips, Steve drifted off as well.

He awoke a few hours later to a gut-wrenching scream from Clint that had him bolting upright, ready to defend the archer to the death if necessary. What he saw instead was the younger man caught in the grips of a nightmare. With an effort, Steve pulled himself out of bed and stumbled across to the couch, slipping down beside it. Knowing it was a bad idea to wake someone from a nightmare, but unable to handle Clint's heartbreaking screams anymore, Steve grabbed onto Clint's wrist and shook him gently while calling his name. Clint's eyes flew open and in the split second before recognition dawned, all he realized was that someone was pinning him down. Normally he never would have broken Steve's grip but the other man's weakened condition allowed Clint to break free and drive an elbow hard into Steve's gut. Steve doubled over with a violent cough and slumped to the floor as Clint returned fully to consciousness and realized what he'd just done. "No! Steve!" he gasped in horror, flinging himself to the floor to kneel next to the Captain, who was now dry-heaving from the pain. "Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry!" he choked out.

From some irrepressible reserve of strength, Steve stretched out his hand and gripped the archer's arm, hard. "Not your fault, Clint. Shoulda known better but you were screaming," he panted hoarsely. "Don't feel so good though," he added in a mumble, his head falling onto Clint's shoulder and his arm going around Clint's back to support himself, feeling as he did a massive welt. Clint's hand instantly went to the back of his head, soothing.

"Easy. Come'n, let's get you back in bed." With an effort, he hauled the taller and heavier Captain to his feet. The couch would have been far easier, but Steve was far too tall for it. Steve's head lolled against his shoulder, but he fought to remain on his feet and, leaning heavily on Clint, managed to make it to the bed, where he collapsed with a moan. Instantly Clint pulled up his shirt and examined Steve's wound. Remarkably, the stitches had held, but that did little to assuage the man's guilt. Steve sensed this, however, and rasped out, "Well, I dunno about the rest of you, but your elbow's in mighty fine shape."

Hawkeye let out a chuckle that was more of a restrained sob. "I'll get a heating pad - it'll help sooth the pain a little. Then you're goin' back to sleep - you're supposed to be resting."

Steve's hand shot out and grabbed his forearm, hard. "Get the heating pad, yes, but then sit an' talk. Neither of us is gettin' any more sleep tonight an' we both have stuff we need to get off our chests. Stop running away from it, Clint. Sometimes the only way to get healing is walk through the hurt," he said bluntly.

Clint stared in astonishment at the man lying in agony on the bed before him. Never in his life had someone been able to cut through the excuses and walls he worked so hard to put up and simply tell him what was on his heart. "Okay," he replied simply after a long moment. He hadn't expected it to be this easy to open up - he knew he wanted to, needed to, but he'd kept it bottled up so long he had no idea how to start. The Captain seemed to have found just the right key to unlock the door to his heart.

When he returned, laying the warm pad across Steve's stomach, Steve smiled in thanks before asking, "What happened to your back? Maybe you should get a heating pad for yourself too?"

Amazed that the injured soldier had noticed, Clint shrugged. "They blew the top of the building I was on, so it was either fall seventy stories or repel into the building. I thought the latter option sounded better, so I did, but I landed hard on top of my quiver, which happens to be made out of steel."

Steve winced. "Did you get it checked out?"

Once again the casual shrug. "No need. Nothin's broken. Just one ugly bruise that hurts like the devil. We've all got somethin' similar - Tash an' Banner came off the best with only a few cuts an' bruises. Stark actually isn't that bad, considering the fact he fell from a wormhole in the sky an' stopped breathing. He's got a mild concussion from Banner tossing him on the ground, but it's not slowin' him down any. Thor got stabbed in the side by Loki, but it was just a painful flesh wound. It's pretty much healed by now," Clint replied, guessing correctly the Captain would want to know.

Steve shook his head bitterly. "I can't believe I didn't notice! What kind of leader am I?"

"Lay off the guilt trip, Cap!" Clint warned. "Your leadership saved the city, in case you didn't notice, not to mention kept us all alive. You really think we could have worked as a team without your leadership?"

Steve nodded. "Sure you could have. You're all good men - an' women," he added with a tiny quirk of a smile as he remembered Natasha.

"That doesn't negate the fact we needed a leader, an' I for one wouldn't have followed Stark. Enough of that, Cap, an' just accept the fact we needed you."

Recognizing an immovable force when he saw one, Steve finally conceded. "Then sit, an' let's talk," he replied gently, pointing to the foot of his bed, where Clint's back would be to the door.

As he'd suspected would happen, Clint froze. "Easy, Hawkeye, I got your back," Steve murmured gently.

After a long second of hesitation, Clint perched at the foot of the bed, resting his back against the foot-board with a pillow the Captain had tossed him. "I can't hear well," Clint explained suddenly, his voice soft. "Ten percent hearing in my left ear, seventy-five percent in my right ear - on a good day."

"I know," Steve replied gently. "I may not be as good as you, Hawkeye, but I people watch too. I noticed how you always stand in a corner of a room, your back to the wall, where you can watch everybody and everything. You don't like people coming up from behind you at all, especially not on your left side. I put two and two together."

"But you trusted me to watch your back - an' the team's back?" Clint demanded, amazed once more at just how much the Captain had picked up on in a few days.

"Any reason why I shouldn't?" Steve shot back.

The corner of Clint's mouth quirked. "No."

Steve grinned. "That's what I figured."


	4. Superhero with a Side of Sorrow

Now that they'd made up their minds to talk, however, they had no idea where to start. Finally, Clint cleared his throat. "Cap? What'd ya mean about nobody keepin' their promise?"

Steve flinched, caught completely off guard. Somehow he'd anticipated being the one to start the painful conversation by getting Clint to open up, not the other way around. A tear slipped unbidden down his cheek. "From the day I was born, everyone deserted me, Clint. The hospital you took me to? My mother abandoned me there the day I was born - told the nurse that took care of her that she already had three kids an' didn't want another. She told her she didn't care what happened to me - just so long as she didn't know about it. The nurse took me in for as long as she could, but when her husband was killed in a car crash she couldn't afford to take care of me any more and was forced to turn me out on the streets `cause no orphanage would take me since I was so sickly. I was wandering the streets of downtown Brooklyn, sobbing, cold an' sick when a boy named James Buchanan stumbled across me. I was six - he couldn't have been more than nine or ten - but he determined to take care of me. He took my hand and led me back to an abandoned store where he'd made a home. Over the years he nursed me through every illness an' we kept each other alive. I was all for the war effort an' kept tryin' to sign up, but nobody'd let me. Then one day I was watching a movie an' some jerk badmouthed the army boys. I'd had it an' called him out. We fought in the back alley. Let's just say that I'd have been missing a few teeth had Bucky not stumbled across us and given that fella a piece of his mind.

"Bucky then proceeded to tell me we were going out on the town `cause he'd joined up an' was shipping out the next day. He'd found me a girl to double-date with an' I did my best to enjoy it, but inside my heart was breaking. Bucky was my only friend, an' all I wanted to do was join up with him, but I couldn't `cause I was so puny. So I had to stand there an' watch while my best friend literally walked out of my life. I decided to try joining up one more time, an' a man named Erskine had overheard my conversation. He pulled strings an' I was allowed to join up. After a few tests, Erskine came to me an' told me I'd been chosen to be the new super-soldier. He promised me he'd be there with me in the aftermath, `cause it'd be tough adjusting.

"Well, I went through the experience, an' I'll freely admit it was awful. What nearly killed me, however, was that just after I'd been transformed, a German agent shot Erskine and he died in my arms. The last thing he did was touch my heart, reminding me of our conversation the night before that it was my heart that set me apart from the rest, not my body. They'd lost the serum that turned me into this guy an' wanted me in a lab to rediscover it. I refused, so the Colonel sent me off to raise money for war bonds. I felt like my country had rejected me. I just wanted to help an' here I was parading around. Anyway, one day I was overseas and heard that the 101st, Bucky's division, had gotten ripped to shreds. Peggy Carter, one of my few friends, and Howard Stark, Tony's father, helped me get behind enemy lines. I broke into a HYDRA base an' rescued nearly two hundred men, including Bucky. He promised that he'd never leave again an' that he'd follow me to the end of the earth an' back.

"Everything was right in my world for a while after that. They finally realized that I made a top of the line soldier, so I formed my own kind of search and destroy team with a handful of men, including Bucky." Steve's voice tightened up for the first time since he'd begun his narrative. "We were on our last mission, Clint. Bucky an' I joked like we always did before a mission, an' then we boarded a train. We shot it out with some bad guys, an' then one of them came up from behind and blasted me on the shield. I managed to protect Bucky, but it blew me into the train wall an' even though I didn't quite black out, I came close. Bucky grabbed up my shield an' started shootin' at the guy, but he took a full-on hit on the shield an' it blew him out the side of the train. He managed to grab onto a piece of metal and I tried to catch him...but...but his hand slipped before I could...could grab him. He screamed my name as he fell an'..." Steve choked up, unable to go on. He felt Clint's hand press his leg in silent understanding and he relaxed enough to continue.

"I pulled myself back together after a few weeks, enough to move on anyway. Peggy an' I got really close, an' then I led an attack on the main HYDRA base. It was successful, except the leader got away. Peggy and my old Colonel got me on the plane with the guy an' we had a major fight. I won, but by that time, I realized that he had a nuke headed straight for New York City. It flew too fast, an' it was gonna reach it before I could do anything, so I put it down in the ice. The last thing I heard was Peggy promising me that...that she'd be waiting for me, Clint! When I finally got out, the first thing I did was look her up, an' she died four years ago! Clint, you were the first person that actually kept a promise to me," Steve choked out, no longer able to hold in the tears that he'd kept inside for the past seventy years.

Shocked at the Captain's painful story, Clint had found himself at a loss for words. "I'm so sorry, Steve," he finally murmured, knowing it wasn't really enough but it was all he had.


	5. And the Walls Came Crashing Down

Steve blinked away the tears and wrapped an arm across his aching side. "Not your fault, Clint. Talk to me, please," he added quietly.

"I guess I was kind of similar," Hawkeye replied after a minute's hesitation. "I was abandoned at birth, no idea who my birth parents were, never tried to find out. Like you, I was adopted by somebody, but this man was awful. He owned a circus, an' that's where I learned my people watching skills. When I was about eight, however, I caught on to to some illegal activity an' got beaten an' left for dead. That's how I lost my hearing. I eventually recovered, however, an' the circus owner eventually taught me how to shoot a bow an' arrow for the circus in exchange for keepin' me alive. I got good - real good - an' one day somebody tried to hire me to take somebody out. I refused, but it made me think. Then a police officer stumbled across me. I think he picked up on the environment I was in an' decided to bail me out before I ended up on the wrong side of the law. He recruited me to be a sniper for a SWAT team, even though I was only nineteen an' used a bow and arrow instead of a rifle." At Steve's puzzled look, he explained. "That's a term for a tactical police unit that goes in an' rescues people in hostage situations or sometimes does work in places other police can't." Steve nodded in understanding and Clint continued. "I liked that - I got to help lots of people, especially since I was also trained as a medic. An' then one day we happened to get called in as backup for SHIELD. Phil Coulson saw me work an' recruited me to take down terrorists. I was good - the best in the business, an' Phil became my mentor, the father I never had, an' my best friend." Like Steve, Clint became choked up as he spoke about his one true friend. "One day he sent me out to get a girl that was the top assassin in the world. I didn't like taking down women to begin with, let alone a girl, but I hated seeing people murdered even more. Problem was, she'd heard I was coming an' was looking for me just as hard as I was looking for her. We turned a corner an' came face to face, my arrow an' her gun just inches apart. We were at a Mexican stand off until outta nowhere the Mafia came up - right in the middle of downtown Budapest. They wanted her for taking down one of the mob leaders, an' I wanted them for killing a SHIELD agent the year before. With one glance we took them down, an' boy did we make the best team I've ever seen. After that, I decided I couldn't kill her, an' I convinced her to come back to SHIELD with me. Director Fury was ready to strangle me, but Phil stepped in an' talked him into giving her a chance. So that's how Tash an' I became the top team at SHIELD. Separate we were good; together, we were the best there was.

"An' then...an' then Loki came along through that wretched Tesseract. I saved Fury's life when Loki aimed at him, but a blast from a shock wave that slammed me into the ground hard enough to make me extremely woozy. I was the only one still conscious and able to do anything, though, so I got back up an' was gonna go after him, but I was still unsteady. He grabbed my arm an' almost broke it, then stared into my eyes an' jabbed that spear into my chest. Steve, I've never felt anything like that in my life, an' I pray I never do again. It was the worst pain I've ever felt, but I couldn't move. I felt it move through me, an' then suddenly I was under his control. Somehow I knew it, but I couldn't do anything about it." Clint shuddered violently at the memory and accepted Steve's hand that was instantly extended long enough to grab on for a few seconds. Steve's encouraging press of his hand gave him courage and he continued painfully on. "I put my gun away, only to take it out a few minutes later to shoot Director Fury. It hit him dead in the chest an' he'd have been dead if he hadn't been wearing a bullet-proof vest. Then I shot it out with Agent Hill out in the garage, but that didn't slow her down." He grinned faintly. "She's tough. Apparently she got right in the nearest Hummer an' took off after me. She cut me off, slammed on the brakes an' threw the emergency brake on before she started shooting at me. Almost got me, too, an' she woulda stopped me if I hadn't had the bigger vehicle. I bulled her out of the way an' kept right on goin'. I didn't know right from wrong anymore, Cap. All I knew was I had to do whatever Loki commanded. You an' I were actually in Germany together when you fought Loki. I got him in there. Then I planned that raid on the helicarrier. Steve, Loki warped my mind into thinking I had to kill Tasha! All I wanted to do was find her an' squeeze the life out of her! Thankfully she managed to knock some sense into me, literally, but when I woke up, I found out my best friend was dead, all because of me, not to mention who knows how many of my teammates! They won't tell me, Steve! An' it's all my fault!" he cried bitterly, head sinking into his hands.

"No it's not!" Steve bellowed angrily. "The fault is entirely with Loki! He took over your mind, did something no human could do - you were powerless to stop him. Don't blame yourself for something you had no control over! Please!" he added softly. With an effort, Steve then shifted onto his knees and pulled the smaller man into his chest. The archer tensed, then relaxed, sagging into the Captain's arms. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried, let his barriers down at all, really. He tried to let Natasha in, but he was just too scared - scared she wouldn't understand. But he knew the Captain did and so he clung to him like a lifeline, sobbing out years of frustration, fear, and uncertainty. Steve, for his part, held the younger man close, gently rubbing his back, and cried quietly himself, for Clint, for all the lives that had been lost, and even some tears of healing. Clint stayed in Steve's embrace until he felt the soldier beginning to tremble with the effort of supporting him. At that point he gently pulled away, and started to apologize, but Steve cut him off. "Don't, Clint. Nothin' to apologize for."

With a slight smile, Clint nodded faintly. "Okay, but do me a favor an' lie down. I've had enough work haulin' you around in the past two days - I'm not in the mood to do it again," he teased.

Steve rolled his eyes and shot back sarcastically, "Aye, aye, Cap!"

Clint snorted and then relaxed back against the foot of the bed as Steve stretched out once more, instantly pulling the heating pad up against his aching stomach. There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes and then Clint spoke. "Steve? I hate working for SHIELD. It's not gonna be the same without...without Phil there anymore. An' after what they did...? I overheard Tony talkin' to Banner about the weapons they had planned. I can't kill anymore, Steve! I've seen too much death an' destruction!"

Steve looked the archer in the eye and replied simply, "Then quit!"

"But it's not that easy! Fury'll have my hide - he'll come after me."

"Look, I know I've been on ice for seventy years, an' there sure have been a lot of changes, but as far as I know, the Constitution is still in place. If that's the case, then neither Fury nor anybody else has any right at all to stop you from doing whatever you want. That's what the Bill of Rights is all about, Clint."

Clint stared at Steve in utter astonishment and then began to laugh. "You know, I'd have been a lot happier man a lot of years ago if I'd learned to just not let life be as complicated as I made it."

Steve grinned back at him. "I lived in a simpler time...an' in a sense I still do," he replied softly.

"Yeah." He waited a heartbeat and then said, "Steve? I love Natasha."

"Then tell her already! It's plain to see that you're head over heels for her!"

"But..."

"But what? You not sure she likes you? `cause I sure am! Clint, every chance she got, she reminded us that Loki had you an' we had to get you back. Not only that, but more than once, I saw her subtly pull up your file just to look at your picture. I know I'm a little outa touch an' all, but the signs of love haven't changed, even in seventy years!"

With a completely happy grin, Clint relaxed. "You mean it?"

"You really think I'd lie?"

This time the response was a happy chuckle. "No, I don't suppose you would. Steve? You're...you're the brother an' best friend I never had an' always wanted."

"Funny how fast things happen when they're meant to be. I've needed a friend since...since Bucky, an' I knew the minute I saw you standing in the doorway that you were that friend." As he spoke, however, the Captain began to shiver. The power had gone out about ten minutes before and Steve had gotten quite chilled.

Clint tensed. "Cap? Whatsa matter?"

Steve spoke around chattering teeth. "Hate the cold, Clint. Being stuck in ice for seventy years'll do it, I suppose."

This time Clint didn't hesitate, but stretched out alongside the soldier, wrapping his arm carefully across his chest. "I gotcha, Steve. Sleep, brother - an' that's a medic's order!" he ordered with a grin that Steve couldn't see in the dark but sensed anyway.

"Yes'ir, Doc," Steve mumbled sleepily, the emotions, pain, and warmth finally combining to make him tired. "Night, brother," he added as he drifted off.

The two men lounged around Clint's apartment for the next three days, allowing their injuries time to heal, as well as getting to know one another better before finally venturing out and helping with the reconstruction of New York. Apart, they were two broken young men; together, their friendship cemented them into a nearly unbeatable team that couldn't be broken.


	6. Epilogue

Tony Stark rebuilt his beloved tower with the help of the rest of the Avengers and, with some sweet-talking, convinced them all to move in. With the help of his AI, Jarvis, Tony built an apartment for each team member that fit their personality.

Clint and Steve shared a sprawling apartment with 1940's decor on the very top floor of the tower, specially fitted with a "nest" so Hawkeye could retreat somewhere if he felt the need. The walls were sound-proof, at Steve's request, so that Clint wouldn't have to strain so hard to hear what was happening in his own apartment. Visitors were welcome, but loud music was not, and when they felt the need to watch TV, they went to Tony's apartment or the common room. They had adopted a cat, which both found rather soothing. The apartment featured two bedrooms, but occasionally one or the other of the two would find themselves in the other's bed, comforting the occupant after a nightmare. Whenever Thor came to visit the rest of the Avengers, he found himself drawn to the quiet solitude of their apartment and he quickly became a frequent guest.

Tony and Bruce Banner had also become good friends and they shared a retro-style apartment on the floor below, with their lab attached to it.

Pepper had her own apartment one level below, but she shared it willingly with Natasha whenever she chose to visit.

Natasha was the only member of the Team who decided to remain with SHIELD. Clint had officially retired almost immediately and become a paramedic, telling Steve that he was going to save lives from now on, not take them. Tony, Bruce and Pepper worked hard in their lab, creating new inventions every day that would help mankind. Thor busied himself putting Asgard back on its feet, but visited frequently, particularly since he had finally located Jenny and was dating her at last. Steve joined the Red Cross and went on missions of mercy around the country.

Clint had taken Steve's advice and he and Natasha had begun dating the week after the battle for New York City. With some gentle encouragement from Clint and Natasha, Steve had gradually fallen for and finally asked out Agent Maria Hill from SHIELD. Director Fury pretended not to notice that two of his best agents went out on dates with two of the Avengers every time they had a break between missions. The council wasn't pleased, but Fury told them bluntly he was not interested in their opinions and that his agents had full rights to date whomever they chose.

And every Friday night, Steve and Clint could be found up in the Hawk's Nest, as Tony lovingly dubbed it. The Hawk's Nest was a small lookout high above the rest of the Tower that he built on hearing Steve and Clint's story. Every Friday, the pair would climb high above the city and keep watch while they talked, each having found the brother and friend they had needed all along.

And the all-seeing Jarvis was pleased. His Avengers were happy and at peace at last, and if the world ever needed rescuing again, well, they need look no farther than the Avenger's Tower.


End file.
